Harry Potter and the Veil of Secrets
by BlondieBear13
Summary: When Harry Potter discovers a way to communicate with his lost Godfather, Sirius Black, his whole world is about to change . . .


Chapter One: The Dream  
  
Harry Potter, for the first time in his entire sixteen years of being, was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Ever since the death of Harry's godfather and close friend, Sirius Black, Harry hadn't felt much like associating with the wizarding world. Naturally, he had kept in touch with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, his two best friends, but it had been difficult to talk as though he wasn't completely torn up inside. So, when the owls from his friends had ceased and dwindled to an almost nonexistent number, Harry had been less than offended.  
Life on Privet Drive was exactly the same as it had been every previous summer vacation when Harry came home from Hogwarts. Or, rather, came to Privet Drive from home. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were as demanding and awful as ever before. Dudley, Harry's overweight cousin, was as mean and conniving as always.however, Dudley had been a little nicer to Harry since he brought a wand and powers into the house. Somehow, this consoled Harry in a small way.  
It was on a stifling hot summer's night that Harry first woke to a shooting pain in his forward. Harry was drenched with sweat, and his hand was clutching his forehead to try and soothe the burning pain in his scar. Quickly, Harry leaped from the bed and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill towards him: his dream journal. Harry vividly recalled details from his dreams shortly after waking up, but generally forgot them more and more quickly as the day progressed. Therefore, he found it helpful to keep a record of all his dreams. Tonight's dream, especially, would interest Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  
Harry thought of the dream as he wrote down the details. He had been in a small, dark chamber that didn't stir any memories inside his thoughts. It had been dark as pitch, and seemingly empty. The silence was like a weight over Harry's body, and he felt a tremendous pressure weighing him down. He felt succumbed to lie down on the floor (or whatever he was standing on, for Harry couldn't see a floor of any kind in the darkness) and sleep. All of the sudden, whispered voices rang through the silence, starting softly and growing louder and increasingly louder with every passing minute. However, Harry had felt his blood run cold with the first soft whisperings. Inside the voices, he heard the voice of Sirius Black.  
When Harry finished writing down his dream, he pushed the parchment into the loose floorboard under his bed. Many of Harry's treasures were kept under this floorboard, including hidden food parcels from his friends, letters from witches and wizards, his subscription to the Daily Prophet, and his spellbooks from school. Harry had barely used the floorboard this summer, simply throwing things into the space and shutting it again only when he felt it necessary to hide something. None of the Dursleys came into his room, so this was hardly necessary.  
The second thing Harry did was pull out another piece of parchment and begin writing a short, choppy letter. There was only one wizard with whom Harry had kept in constant contact throughout the entire summer, never ceasing the amount of letters pouring out or the amount of letters coming in. After all, Remus Lupin was experiencing much of the same pain and agony that Harry was. Remus had lost the last of his best friends from school, and could relate to how much Harry missed Sirius. Therefore, Harry felt it necessary to keep in touch with his friend.  
  
Dear Remus,  
Had a dream.pitch black, whispering voices.I heard Sirius. Scar hurt.badly. What does it mean? Reply. Harry  
  
It wasn't the longest or friendliest letter Harry had ever written, and Hedwig (Harry's snowy owl) did not look pleased to be shaken awake from her slumber to deliver a letter this early in the morning, but Harry thought Remus should know of his dream and of the pain in his scar. In the past, Harry's scar had hurt when Voldemort (the dark lord of the wizarding world, who was responsible for Harry's fame and for his parents' death sixteen years before) was feeling a particularly strong emotion, or when Voldemort was nearby. Now, though, Harry's scar hurt much more fluently than before and it was harder for him to read the reasons.  
Now, though it was only five o'clock in the morning, Harry knew sleep wouldn't come again. He would just have to sit awake, hoping that Hedwig would return before too long with a response from Remus, and ponder the dream and his scar. What could the dream have possibly meant? Where could he have been? Harry lay back and drew the dream once again to the front oh his mind, his eyes closed tightly so he could concentrate more on the images from the dream. Now on the outside, looking in on the dream, Harry could make out minor details of his surroundings. Black walls that looked to be made of granite, and a gaping hole in the top of the room. What was the hole for, and where did it lead?  
For an hour or two, Harry pondered the dream and its meaning and location. Then, at seven o'clock, Aunt Petunia slammed on the door with her fists.  
"Up! Up!" She hollered. Then she turned on her heels and stomped down the stairs. Harry stood and adjusted his glasses. He dressed as quickly as he could, attempted to flatten his unruly black hair in vain, and ran down the stairs five minutes after Petunia called him. "Fix breakfast, boy."  
"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry said with a sigh, pulling out eggs and bacon and frying things up for his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Uncle Vernon looked extremely disgruntled when Hedwig came flying into the kitchen and landed on Harry's shoulder.  
"If I find one solitary feather in my food, boy." Vernon began threateningly, letting his voice trail off as he watched Harry open the letter attached to Hedwig's leg. "So.who is it from, then, boy?"  
"My name isn't boy." Harry replied steadily, lifting his gaze and peering into Vernon's eyes. "This is from a friend of mine who has some very interesting news."  
"Er.what's that.Harry?" Vernon asked, pulling at his moustache nervously, as though he knew what was coming and dreaded it.  
"You may know that at school for the past few years, we've had.er.security breeches." Harry said thoughtfully. "In more understandable terms.Voldemort has shown up with the intention of killing me. He hasn't yet succeeded, but a dream I had last night brings up.unpleasant memories of people he did succeed in killing. Professor Dumbledore wants to meet with me about the dream.he wants me to go over exactly what I saw and heard, so we can make sure that nothing like our previous experiences is about to happen again."  
"Oh." Vernon looked completely startled. "So.er.the train then?"  
"No." Harry shook his head. "No, Dumbledore is coming to get me by floo powder. You remember, Uncle Vernon.the way the Weasley's came to get me?"  
Suddenly, Vernon's face turned chalk white. He obviously remembered quite well.  
"See you later, Uncle Vernon." Harry said casually, walking back up to his bedroom. He had packing to do! 


End file.
